The False Emperor
by wangxiuming
Summary: Disaster looms over the doomed world of Ziost. The Sith Emperor has been reawakened. He now possesses the Sixth Line Jedi to see his plans for Ziost to completion. Desperate to save their respective friends, a fallen Sith, an exiled intelligence agent, and a lone Jedi form an unlikely alliance. ... But can they even save themselves, much less those they care about?
1. Prologue - Part 1

_**Prologue - Part 1**_

* * *

Cold wrapped itself around me in a cadaverous embrace. It hungered for me like an insistent lover, clutching at the crevices between my limbs, stealing the breath from my lungs, sapping the spark of flame that drove my heart to beat. I could no more escape it than I could flee my own shadow. I could no more deny it than I could refute my own existence.

As my eyelids flipped open, cool liquid surged forward to drown my sight, except … no. Not just my eyes. It was everywhere, all around me. Death had indeed come for me after all; I was going to drown. I was going to die. Every moment that passed stole from me precious oxygen. Every second I had left screamed questions that I could not answer. What was this place? How did I get here? Who had done this to -

"Calm down, Lord Andora. You're in a kolto tank. You were injured; we had to bring you to this facility to recover."

Andora. I recognized my own name, at least. I knew who I was.

Sith.

Small details ignited in my memory, like jolts of electricity highlighting all the significant events of the last few decades. My home on Ziost, its place within the Empire. The battles that spanned decades. A Kaggath that pitted me against another Sith … his name slipped my recollection, but the battles I fought against his underlings had not faded. I was powerful. I was strong.

I knew what a kolto tank was. It took me a few seconds to realize I was, in fact, breathing quite normally. It took another few to realize my lekku had not been detached from the back of my but were simply suspended within the same liquid that kept the rest of my body afloat, submerged, but alive.

The knowledge I hadn't awakened to a watery grave did little to appease the questions that followed, nor the disquiet that still permeated every bone in my body.

How had I come to be here?

I did not remember being injured, did not remember how I had been brought to this location. I did not know the aged voice that now rang into my ears, amplified by a loudspeaker but distorted through the kolto. Everything was fuzzy. Murky. Opaque. Trying to remember felt like watching a holovid through a stranger's spectacles.

Suddenly, the liquid drained from the tank. The cylindrical glass before me swiveled open and I found myself stumbling forward. The muscles in my legs felt weak. Beyond weak, even. Unfamiliar. As if even the simple act of standing was now a new experience to them. Had I been stuck in that tank for so long that I had forgotten even this?

Before me, a large, mostly empty room with a single entrance stood in silence save for the still-churning echoes of the kolto tank I escaped. The windowless walls were pristine durasteel, kept in meticulous condition. Cameras with loudspeakers beneath them hung in all corners of the room. A single mirror dominated the landscape of the wall directly before me. I watched my reflection teeter on the soles of its feet, naked, lekku dangling behind me, scarlet flesh painted in splotches of veridian kolto.

A young togruta girl rushed forward to wrap a blanket around me before retreating to retrieve a durasteel chair that was clearly too heavy for her to lift. She struggled to keep its legs from rasping against the floor; I wanted to help her, started to do so even, but attempting a step caused me to fall to my knees. My bones cried out as they smacked against the plasteel floor and pain followed the sound in disjointed succession.

Just what had they done to me?

"What do you remember, my lord?"

The voice repeated questions over a loudspeaker that I could not answer for myself, much less for anyone else. I struggled to communicate my confusion, my doubt, my anger … to no avail. The girl had her arms around me now, pulling me into the chair she had somehow managed to bring into the center of the diagnostic chamber. All the while, she remained silent, eyes averted in a clear effort to avoid meeting my own. I lifted my arm to grab her, to force her to answer, but before I could, the loudspeaker rang out again.

"I know it must be difficult, but you must answer my questions."

The voice grated on my ears. It reeked of a man who had long since forgotten how to distinguish sympathy from sycophancy. I was neither an intellectual, nor a philosopher, but voices sparked my intuition. Subtle intonations, cadence, lilt and inflection, rhythm and pacing … they said as much as the words they carried. Often more.

This one's voice spoke of a man defeated, a man who had come to know the heel of a boot well and often.

"Where am I?" I managed. The words came slow and obstinate; my tongue had to work to push them out.

"My research facility. I am Doctor Magaro … and I'm here to help you."

I chuckled humorlessly. It was more difficult than I remembered. Did my laughter always sound so stilted?

"Did I say something amusing?" asked Magaro over the loudspeaker, his question more curious than affronted.

"Your accent. It's Imperial."

"It is."

The words came easier the more I spoke. "I'm still in the Empire. There is no charity to be found here. You want something from me."

The voice didn't respond.

"What is it then?" I pressed. "What is it you think you can get from me? Wealth? Influence? A Sith's favor?"

The loudspeaker sounded out again, but it no longer addressed me.

"Tava, secure the patient."

In a flash, the meek togruta girl seized my wrists with surprising precision and strapped them into the chair's armrests. My ankles followed suit despite my best efforts to resist. I didn't understand how my reflexes had slowed to such pathetic straits, why my muscles seemed to process every one of my commands with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. Once, I was a champion among my master's apprentices. Now …

It hit me then like a pail of ice water. Darth Siphon, my master; her golden mask gleamed against the light of Ziost's moons as she advanced on Hallie. Hallie, my beloved. My arm and weapon shot out to deflect Siphon's blade from running Hallie through. It was a move that surprised even myself. Instinct had taken over. I shouted at Hallie to run, to flee. To save herself while I sacrificed … everything.

"You're remembering something," said Magaro. "Tell me."

"You work for _her,"_ I replied. A guess, but the only one that made any sense.

"Who?"

"Darth Siphon. My master."

The voice changed. The false empathy evaporated, replaced by genuine giddiness. "You remember her. Good. Excellent! What else? What else?"

My mouth answered before I could think to stop myself. "I … was trying to save Hallie. Siphon was going to kill her … I had to stop her. She got away, but …I don't know what happened next. It's all a blur … all empty."

"Agent Hallian Quen. That's right. Very good. Last I heard -"

The voice paused. It was deliberate. The tempo of his words was too calculated for their sudden cessation to have been anything but a precisely-timed piece of theater.

I didn't care. The desperate need to know what had befallen Hallie overwhelmed any curiosity at the purpose behind Magaro's theatrics. "What happened to her! Tell me!"

The voice over the megaphone ignored me. "Tava, please place the test object and then exit the chamber."

The togruta girl - Tava - did as she was told. Gently, she set a drab pillow down upon the floor before me. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second as she looked back up, but they fled as quickly as her feet carried her from the room. Moments later, I was once more alone, strapped into a heavy chair in a room where my only visible company was the reflection of my body staring back at me. That, and a pillow.

I had no doubt the mirror was two-way. Magaro had to be on the other side, observing his patient from behind it. Why? Did he fear that I would use the Force against him? Did he think the mirror would protect him?

The questions continued unabated in my mind, but my heart allowed for only one. "Tell me what happened to Hallie."

"I will, my lord. But I must beg your indulgence. There are some tests I need to run. Your cooperation would be most appreciated."

"What sort of tests?"

"Simple ones, ideally. Please, reach into the Force. Use it to move that pillow."

I blinked in disbelief. " … you insult me with this trivial task. I am Sith."

"You are, my lord. Even so, please ... humor me."

Against my better judgment, I acquiesced. My hand reached before me; it felt like lifting lead, but I needed no physical strength to access the Force. I still remembered its quirks and its vagaries. They were as fresh in my mind as anything else.

I reached into the Force and willed the pillow to motion, to lift off the ground, in defiance of gravity, compelled by my power.

Nothing happened. An eternity passed in breathless anticipation - expectation, even - and still, the silken cushion moved not a single centimeter.

" … I feared as much." The disappointment in the doctor's voice was clear even despite his attempts to hide it.

I shook my head and tried again. When the second attempt failed, I could not stop myself from screaming at the man behind the mirror. "What did you do to me!?"

"I'm afraid this is not our doing. This is simply how you are."

I didn't believe him. I couldn't. To be denied access to the Force, to be cut off from its connection ... it felt like I had just been told my limbs had been amputated. I lost something more precious than I had ever thought, something I did not know to cherish until it was -

An image of Hallie flashed before me in defiance of those thoughts. Memories of what it was like to lie beside her, to hold her in my arms, to be joined to her as one … they flooded back to me in a deluge of overwhelming emotion. She was the true treasure. Not the Force. It was her.

"Hallie." I turned my attention once more to the loudspeaker above, doing my best not to betray how desperately I needed to know of my beloved's fate. "I did as you asked. Tell me what happened to her."

A pause followed the answer. "She's alive. She escaped with one of your former allies. Lord Rend. Tell me … what do you remember of him?"

 _Rend._ That imperious snake that cared only for pleasing their master. Why would Hallie have escaped with him? "I don't understand."

"You've missed a lot while you were resting, my lord."

My voice filled with cold fury. I had had enough of being toyed with. "Tell me. _N-"_

But a sudden jolt of agony coursed through me and stole what remained of my frustration from my tongue. I felt my bones ablaze, as though someone had doused them in oil and sparked a match overhead. Anguished cries flooded my ears; it took me more than a few seconds to realize they were my own.

When at last the torment ended and only echoes of searing pain were left, I finally managed to speak once more. " … what have you done to me?"

"I told you, my lord. You're not well."

"What is it?" I pressed. "What's going to happen to me?"

A harrowing pause followed, too long to be deliberate. Even in this pathetic state, I still knew that much at least. The man behind the intercom was struggling to decide what to tell me. The silence spoke volumes, even absent any words.

When at last he spoke, my ears filled with the resounding reply of a man admitting truth in the face of imminent failure.

"You're dying, my lord ... and only I can save you."


	2. Prologue - Part 2

_**Prologue - Part 2**_

* * *

I never doubted that last string of words Doctor Magaro uttered to me, but my body seemed eager to prove them true regardless.

Time passed in a murky haze following that first interview, punctuated only by the wrenching bouts of nausea and splitting migraines that plagued me in an indeterminate tempo. Magaro and his assistants could only feed me intravenously. I was certain that by the third day after my reawakening, I had regurgitated my bodyweight in vomit. At least, it felt like three days; I had no way to be sure. The room they placed me in had neither clocks nor windows. Lighting came only from the ceiling, where ill-maintained fixtures poured pale luminescence downward in flickering splashes of green. They were never turned off completely, not even during the minutes of respite I managed to salvage during sleep.

Neither were the cameras that hung in the four corners of the ceiling.

For a while, I tried counting the minutes between interactions with my sole visitor: the togruta girl Tava. The effort was made impossible by each bout of my affliction. Nausea was always a preamble to more headaches, which themselves heralded unparalleled agony. It felt like my skull was being split open, its cracks widening into canyons. By that point, any chance I had at keeping a record of time went out the nonexistent windows.

Even so, Magaro's assistant came with enough regularity that I suspected the visits were conducted on a strict schedule. Each time, she brought what she claimed to be treatments: hyposprays filled with brightly-colored liquids, disgustingly-sized pills, and various stimulants and adrenals. I briefly considered refusing them all out of a sense of pride, but the torment proved too great.

I took whatever they gave me as quickly as possible. Nothing seemed to help.

In a merciful moment of respite, Tava whispered to me at my bedside, "You must keep fighting, Lord Andora. Do not give up hope."

Her voice carried with it a note of genuine concern, of actual, authentic caring. I was never one to admit surprise, but having heard the togruta girl's words, I could not hide the disbelief from my tone. "What do you care whether I live or die? Is your fate tied to mine? Does Siphon intend to kill you if you and your master cannot save me?"

She did not answer, but merely pushed more pills and a glass of water toward my lips. I swallowed, obedient, and then felt a wave of self-loathing wash over me at my own weakness.

"The Doctor is close," said Tava. "Close to a solution, close to a cure. You must survive until then."

Cold, mirthless laughter fled my lips, followed by a torrent of words I did not even know I had prepared to speak. "I should be dead already. I defied my master, stood between her and the woman I - between her and Hallie."

Tava leaned in close, eyes widening with curiosity. "Do you remember more, my lord? Of what happened?"

"I remember. I remember the battle. Our lightsabers clashing over and over, my master's furious roar, the rage she commanded against me. I was overwhelmed, outmatched, out of her league. I remember her readying a killing blow. I should've been slain then and there."

The togruta girl looked away briefly before returning her attention to me. When our eyes met, I grabbed her wrist with my palm, sweaty and weak as it was. I needed answers. I needed more than what they had given.

"I should be dead. Why am I not?"

Tava tried to slip her hand free of mine, but at this moment, what remained of my will was still enough to overcome hers. I would not free her from my grasp, would not tolerate her to duck and dodge and avoid my questions any longer. I had to know. And I would have this girl answer me, whether I could compel the truth from her tongue or not.

When at last she realized she could not escape, her struggles ceased. She turned to me, looked me square in the eye and spoke what I knew immediately to be a lie: "Doctor Magaro saved you."

"Who does he serve?" I pressed, careful not to release an ounce of pressure from my palm around her wrist.

The girl's voice quavered in the face of my interrogation, but her next answer I could trust, that much I could tell.

"Your master. Darth Siphon."

I shook my head. "That makes no sense. She was going to kill me, she should have killed me! Why would she then turn me over to be saved?"

"I'm just Doctor Magaro's assistant. I don't know what any Sith thinks, much less a Darth! Let go of me!" The fear in her eyes was palpable. She was not lying anymore. Not about this.

As the last of her words left her lips, she tried again to tear her hand free from mine. My hands loosened their grip as a sickening lurch in my stomach foretold an all too familiar sequence of events. It was not long before agony pierced my skull and I found myself once more hunched over a nearby waste bin, emptying spit and bile into it.

There was a time I would've died rather than allow any of my vulnerabilities to be exposed to anyone in such a humiliating fashion. For a second, I wanted to go back to that time - back to when things were simple, when I had clear goals, when everything made sense. My place in Darth Siphon's powerbase, my purpose in the Empire, my understanding of the Sith code: everything was once crisp and clear and in focus. Now, everything was a muddled nightmare from which no amount of grasping, clawing, and struggle would ever free me.

And then I remembered. That was before I had known her affection. That was before I had known her love.

That was before Hallie.

I felt a hand on my back, gently but firmly kneading my muscles, freeing the tension from my debilitated body. In that instant, I had never been more grateful for another's touch. Even in the midst of retching an empty stomach, the reassurance that I was not alone filled my heart with warmth. I had only ever known such comfort from one person, the one woman with whom I had dropped my guard and allowed myself to be vulnerable.

"Hallie?"

I turned, hoping against hope that it would be her auburn hair and warm smile that greeted me. Instead, I found only the togruta girl, eyes filled with sympathy. For a second, I hated her and her expression. But as my nausea renewed and my migraine intensified, I could only muster gratitude for her comforting hand on my back.

" … she's coming for you. You have to fight. You have to be here when she arrives."

Tava's words overwhelmed all other sensations. _Hallie was coming for me?_

I whirled on her, spittle still staining my chin. "How do you know?"

"I overheard your master making a holocall. Darth Siphon is using you as leverage to force your friend Hallie and Lord Rend back into her service. Once they have accomplished what your master asks of them, she will give them our location."

I listened with every muscle, every bone, every fiber of my being. There was no deception in the togruta girl's voice. This was the truth!

Before I could ask if my old master's bargain had been accepted, Tava answered the question: "They've already agreed. They're going to rendezvous with Darth Siphon."

This was hope.

Hallie was coming for me. In an instant, all the solitude and isolation I felt since waking up in this unfamiliar facility vanished. The despair I nurtured after discovering my affliction grew silent; I cast it aside like throwing off a tattered cloak. I wasn't alone anymore. I had someone … and they were coming for me. For the first time since I found myself drowning in that kolto tank, I felt a sense of peace spur in my breast.

With Tava's help, I dragged myself back to my bed. She applied the medicines, injections, and supplements she brought with her; I didn't object. I took them all willingly. If it meant I would be able to see Hallie again, I would endure an eon's worth of torments. If it meant I would be able to wrap my arms around her and feel her touch against my skin, I would suffer whatever agony this miserable existence could conjure.

* * *

Days passed.

Whether it was Doctor Magaro's prescribed treatment or knowing that my beloved was coming for me, my condition suddenly took a remarkable turn toward recovery. The bouts of nausea and the headaches gradually became less and less frequent, eventually fading altogether. The feeding tubes were extracted. I returned to eating solid meals; though they could not match the exquisite palette that was once afforded to me within Twinspire Keep, the rations Magaro supplied nevertheless felt good to chew, to gnaw, to tear with my teeth.

My limbs grew strong as muscle and sinew returned to form. The rate of my rejuvenation was particularly astonishing, even to my caretakers.

"You are making excellent progress, my lord."

The loudspeaker overhead bleated at me like a timid sheep; Magaro's voice had lost none of its simpering obsequiousness. I had yet to meet this doctor in person and the more he spoke, the less I desired to do so.

"Does that mean I can leave this place?" I asked, eager to be free of this desolate facility.

"Not yet, my lord," came the reply. "We still need to run some more tests. You still need more time to recuperate."

I could tell he was lying the moment the words hit my ears. He didn't want me to leave. Siphon still had plans for me, that much I was certain. She would not allow Magaro to free me beforehand. The doctor was simply too afraid to admit it.

"Can I at least be let out of these chambers? I'd like to stretch my legs a bit."

The loudspeaker rang out again, ignoring my question: "Tava. If you please."

Again, the togruta girl entered my solitary quarters. Again, the pillow was set down to the ground before she departed, though this time it was not before she offered an encouraging smile.

"My lord. If you would indulge me," Magaro said over the loudspeaker. "Reach into the Force and lift the object into the air."

I did as he asked without bothering to object. I knew the result before I even expended the effort: nothing happened, just as before.

"A pity. But perhaps it is too much to expect that you would have established a connection to the Force so soon. Your body is already healing at an extraordinary rate."

The relief was audible in the Doctor's voice, despite what his words might have tried to convey. Despite my own fears about being permanently severed from the Force, at this moment, I only hoped my handicap would serve as a measure of reassurance to this cowering voice. Surely he would not object to loosening the chains around a Sith that had been so thoroughly disarmed.

"I could really use some fresh air."

It took several days and even more sets of mindless tests before the Doctor finally agreed to my request. I suspected Tava had a hand in securing his approval; Magaro left the intercom on by accident once and I overheard her asking for me to be let out of my cage: "Doctor, it could help the subject's recovery to get out of that confined sp-"

Magaro was quick to notice the mistake and shut off the intercom, but I had heard enough to feel another surge of gratitude for this stranger who seemed so eager to help me, despite me having given her no reason to do so. She did so absent any request on my part; when the Doctor finally relented out of the blue, I knew the credit for this small mercy had to go to her.

"My assistant is to escort you at all times and you are not to step into any prohibited areas," Magaro's voice instructed. As if on cue, the durasteel doors to my quarters opened before me.

I nodded my head through ground teeth. I was not accustomed to being given orders by my lessers, but I knew if I had any chance of exploring Magaro's facility - and possibly confirm his location and send out a message - I would have to swallow my pride.

"Tava, keep a close eye on the s-" Doctor Magaro paused, seemingly thinking better of his word choice. " … on our patient. Make sure he does not stray."

"Yes, Doctor."

"You understand, girl? We do not have the resources we once did. If we allow this, you will be the first and last line of guardianship. You will be his keeper. Should anything happen to Lord Andora … you will assume full responsibility."

" … yes, Doctor."

Tava was already waiting for me outside my room; a small smile played on her lips as she greeted me. I did not respond immediately; I waited until we were out of range of the security cameras in and around my room before grabbing and cupping one of her hands in both of my own. I forced my eyes to meet hers, despite the awkwardness of the exchange; I hoped it would be enough for her to understand what I wanted to convey.

I never was much for offering spoken gratitude.

From that day on, a guided tour of my generous prison was included in my daily routine. Doctor Magaro's facility was not large at all; my walks with Tava took barely thirty minutes. She was charitable enough to explain each of the rooms as we passed: medical bays, testing laboratories, administrative offices, holonet server rooms. It did not escape my notice that the facility was woefully understaffed. There were no guards that I could see and besides Tava, I only noticed a few other assistants. From what I gathered, they were often assigned to a myriad of roles and duties.

It took only a few more days for me to notice that there was one set of doors that Tava never stopped to describe. Curiously, they also led to a chamber that seemed to see frequent activity from Magaro's staff. Personnel were always rushing in and out, sometimes wheeling carbonite blocks, other times bringing in medical supplies. I caught a glimpse of one of the captives; he looked familiar, but I could not put a name to the face. Even more curious, the following instance I caught a glance at one of their carbonite block, I could've sworn it was the same man frozen inside.

A week after we began our daily walks, I could no longer contain my curiosity.

"What's behind those doors?" I asked.

Tava glanced briefly in the direction of the mysterious chamber and immediately looked away. "Nothing. Storage."

She was not a good liar.

I stopped in my tracks, forcing my togruta companion to a pause as well. Slowly and purposefully, I approached the doors. They were solid durasteel like most of the entryways in Magaro's facility; opening them required a passcode entry into a nearby side panel. I had seen Magaro's assistants dance their fingers over the panel a dozen times now, but I had never been able to decipher the access code.

"We shouldn't linger, my lord," Tava said, her voice taking on the nervous tone I usually only heard when we spoke about Darth Siphon.

"What is the good Doctor storing in here?" I asked casually, running a hand over the metal aperture.

"Medical supplies. Nothing … nothing worth your attention, really."

"Deception is not your forte, Tava. You might consider devoting some time to practice it, if you're going to lie so often." I couldn't help a smirk.

And then, the doors opened on their own.

One of Magaro's assistants - a pureblood sith I had seen before - rushed out with several vials of indistinguishable liquid in his hands. So focused on his own task, he did not even bother to stop and question what Tava and I were doing right outside the room. I ducked aside as fast as I could so as to not get bowled over; in a flash, the pureblood had turned a corner and was out of sight.

This was my chance. I knew I only had a second before the doors shut again. I could not let my curiosity go unsated. I had always been too quick to indulge this particular flaw, often to my own detriment.

Perhaps if I had only been able to contain myself this time, things would've turned out differently.

In the blink of an eye, I was inside. I heard the door shut behind me, too fast for Tava to follow. Only her cries of "My lord! My lord!" made it through the durasteel. They all went ignored.

The chamber was dark and cold; the lights only flickered into life as my hands found the appropriate switch on a nearby wall panel. Outside, I could hear Tava frantically working the access keypad. I knew I had little time.

The fluorescent illumination infused the chamber with an eerie quality; the structure was much larger than any of the rooms I had seen thus far and for good reason. Tava had not lied completely; the room was being used for storage. Massive shelves occupied much of the space, stretching from the floor to the ceiling, dozens of meters high. The upper stretches went unoccupied, the middle layers were filled with crates of unidentified research materials, and those at the bottom were stacked with carbonite blocks.

I made my way through the labyrinthian walkway between the shelves, musing if Magaro's assistants ever got lost in this maze. In the distance, I heard the access doors rumble open once more. Tava was on her way in. I was hopelessly lost, but I figured being lost would only make it harder to be caught.

As I wandered, I paused to examine the carbonite cells. More than ten out of the dozens of chemical prisons stored in this chamber passed under my gaze. Seeing the frozen faces embedded in the blocks confirmed a nagging suspicion I held about their occupants. Each of these captives wore the exact same face - that face that I still could not quite remember. They could not have been siblings; even a Sith would have felt pity for a mother that could bear so many children.

No. These weren't siblings from a single pregnancy, or siblings at all for that matter. They were duplicates. They were _clones._ I had heard of limited successes achieved in the field with animals, but humanoid cloning on this scale? That was beyond anything I had ever encountered before. It would be a research breakthrough worthy of the ages, as significant as the development of the hyperdrive.

Was this the reason Magaro was so intent on keeping me from this chamber? Was he conducting this research illegally? Did he fear I would spill his secrets?

"My lord, please! This area is restricted, we must leave!"

Once more I ignored Tava's voice, even though I could tell she was gaining ground on me. Something did not quite add up here. There had to be more.

I pushed forward, making my way out of the labyrinth. I could hear Tava's frantic footsteps follow after me. They were close. She was about to reach me, I knew, but all my attention was focused on what was in front of me.

A gray tarp wrapped around what appeared to be a cylindrical container large enough to shelter a man. The sound of bubbling liquid filled my ears. An aquamarine glow - all too familiar to my eyes - penetrated the cloth.

At last, Tava caught up to me, panting heavily from her pursuit, breathless words falling on deaf ears. "We shouldn't be here, we need to leave before -"

I reached out my hand to pull back the covering.

Tava's own hand darted out to grab my wrist. "No! Don't -"

But she was too late. I cast aside the tarp in a single defiant motion and revealed the truth of what was hidden beneath.

Right before me rested a single kolto tank, so similar to the one I had occupied, filled to the brim with that same viridian molasses that once coated me in its cool embrace. Besides the healing liquid, the receptacle was occupied by a single humanoid figure, one that was mesmerizing in its familiarity. Scarlet-toned flesh wrapped around a muscled body. Twin lekku hung from the back of his head. Scars lined the torso … one appeared to be from a recent lightsaber wound.

But what demanded my full and complete attention was the man's face. His face was not a copy of the clones in the carbonite blocks like I expected … it was an exact mirror of my own.

Beneath the glass, a label scrawled itself haphazardly on masking tape: _Lord Andora - Original Specimen._


End file.
